A Dark Night in Sprodj
by Constantinus
Summary: Professor Calculus, Captain Haddock, Tintin, and Snowy undertake a dangerous and top-secret mission to explore the moon. But a sinister plot lurks in the darkness, endangering lives and threatening the balance of political power in Europe. Takes place during Destination Moon and Explorers on the Moon.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Tintin is a national treasure; of course I don't own him.**

**Takes place during Destination Moon.**

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It was cold, the bare rock wall neither radiating heat nor affording protection from the night breeze. In the valley below, lights twinkled from the clustered buildings, their winking brightness promising warmth, quiet, shelter, a soft bed, and everything else the hunter lacked. He hunkered down, a thin blanket and furry companion his only safeguard against the chill night air and numbing damp of early dew.

He waited patiently, his breathing shallow and silent. The growing dusk gave way to creeping dark as night slowly engulfed both valley and mountains. All was quiet, the passage of time slowed nearly to a standstill through the long hours of unhurried darkness. Still the hunter waited, unmoving, listening for he knew not what. The moon rose, a thin cresecent that cast a sickly glow over the mountains, bathing the cliff face in eerie half-light. Somewhere an owl hooted and a rush of bat's wings flitted through the still air. Close by, a stone clattered as it slid down the rough surface.

The hunter sat up, muscles tensed and breath bated, every sense on edge. As he watched, a wraith-like shadow detached itself from the rocks below and began to climb, gliding up the jagged wall with practiced skill. It stopped often, blending into the rocks and disappearing like some giant fiendish chameleon. When it reached the hidden ledge below the ventilator it straightened up, growing and elongating into the shape of a man, his head adorned with a strange, rounded cap. The stranger approached the ventilator, a hand rising to receive something from within. The hunter stood then, his finger already on the trigger.

"Hands up!" he shouted.

A gun-shot rang off the rocks, shattering the silence into crystalline fragments, and the hunter fell as the darkness once again claimed its own.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: By reader request, this story (originally a one-shot) is being extended. See what happens when you leave a review?**

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After the gun-shot, all was confusion in the dim light: a small, white dog howled disconsolately, his cries echoing off the rocks, and in the shadows, two men crouched on the ledge, pulses racing as they waited for the inevitable search-lights to reveal their position. But no search-lights pierced the darkness surrounding them, and though there was noise behind the ventilator, they knew they had some time. One of them knelt to examine the unconscious boy where he had fallen, his hands slipping in a slowly-widening pool of blood. The dog growled menacingly, hackles raised.

"Leave him," the other hissed. "There's no time, and we have a job to do."

They left then, beginning the treacherous descent down the cliff face. The moon still shone faintly, outlining the jagged surface and the mess of sharp, splintery boulders far below. The dog's howling died away to a piteous whine and, for a moment, all was quiet. But not for long. In the valley below, a door in the vehicle bay lifted and an ambulance made its way to the base of the cliff, its doors opening and members of the search team spilling out into the night.

The medics roped up and began to climb swiftly, communicating in hushed whispers as they scaled the cliff. Above them, trapped between ledge and ground, the intruders froze, fear of discovery lending them preternatural stilness. One of them, the one with the gun, swore under his breath and tightened his grip on the rocks, free hand moving to the holster at his belt. The gun clicked faintly as he cocked it and steadied it.

Just below him, his companion reached up to grab his ankle. "No," he breathed. "Lie low; they'll pass us by."

Both men waited, bodies pressed tight to the cliff and silent as shadows, as the rescue team slowly approached, the lead climber drawing nearer and nearer...and then passing them completely, his attention directed upward toward the ledge. The others followed in quick succession, looking neither to the right nor left, cursing softly when small pebbles dislodged under their fingers.

The intruders quietly released bated breaths and continued inching their way down. With any luck, they would be far from Sprodj by morning, their mission completed and a significant paycheck waiting.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Many thanks to Mirlasse for reminding me to continue this story, such as it is.**

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They reached the ledge, the lead climbers pulling their companions up and moving quickly to where a dark form lay limp and still on the rocks. A medic examined the boy, feeling for pulse and respiration, taking note of the blood on his head and face, staunching its flow with white gauze that seemed to glow eerily in the moonlight. He spoke quickly to his companions, a few words of instruction sufficient, and they worked quietly, assembling a small gurney and anchoring a portable winch and pulley on the ledge.

When the medic gave the word, they lifted the boy gently, strapping him in tightly and stabilizing his head. The dog growled again, barking shrilly, until one of the climbers lifted him and gently strapped him into a medical bag.

They stood on the ledge then, conversing in hushed voices, waiting. The little dog whined, watching his master anxiously. The boy lay in the gurney, unmoving, his expressive face and agile body unnaturally still. Clouds drifted in front of the moon, casting fragile shadows on the cliff face. Far below they heard voices, the words muffled by distance. One of the climbers lit a cigarette, the glow a pinpoint of red in the darkness.

As if by some pre-ordained signal, the climbers began to work again, threading heavy rope through the winch and hooking it to a sling on the gurney. They roped themselves back up, half of them beginning the treacherous climb back down. The winch and pulley creaked sharply as the gurney was slowly lowered below the ledge, swinging a little on the line. One of the climbers reached up and steadied it with a hand.

Inch by painstaking inch, they worked their way down the cliff, the gurney moving steadily on its line. They stopped often, their progress measured meter by meter as the winch was moved and reset time and again.

The moon shone down on them, oblivious to the urgency and the danger. A mere five meters from the bottom, the procession ground to a halt, the line snagged on an overhanging rock. The gurney swung freely, unable to retreat or move forward, its occupant unaware of the dilemma. There was a murmured conversation, then two climbers converged on the winch, bracing their feet and backs against the rock. They took the weight of the gurney between them, feeding out the rope through thick-gloved hands. Below, their companions guided the gurney down with gentle hands, every nerve on edge, every movement painstakingly slow and measured.

When the gurney finally rested on level ground, the world erupted in brief and busy commotion, the ambulance on hand to carry the boy to the infirmary. The climbers gathered their equipment together, returning to the complex maze of vehicle bay and emergency station from whence they had come. Security details patrolled the perimeter, their eyes travelling upward to rest on the cliff face that had played host to the night's drama. Two intruders climbed and ran, dodging patrols and keeping in the shadows until the research centre was far behind them.

And when all was over, the moon sank quietly below the western ridge, its impassive face silent witness to all the world's secrets.


	4. Chapter 4

The chief took the radio call in his cellar, a bottle of wine on hand to celebrate. The news could not possibly have been better, not even if it had come gift-wrapped in the project's blueprint. He smiled grimly when the mission was reported complete. Those spec-ops pilots had been expensive, but worth it; they knew their job, and they'd done it, quickly and efficiently. There was even some rumor that they had shot Tiger, but it was probably no more than that. Just a rumor. Oh well, some things were too good to be hoped for. But rumor or no, they had the information, and the chief was patient: he could wait as long as necessary to see his plans come to fruition.

But in the meantime, there was work to be done. He called for his secretary, a small, silent, wizened little creature rather like a resuscitated mummy, and began to dictate.

_My dear Baron,_

_Upon the successful completion of our first mission, I must thank you for the efficiency and skill with which you planned the whole affair. My hearty congratulations! Believe me, they are not given lightly. _

_I trust that you will pass on the good news to our operatives in the government, discreetly of course. It would not do to lose our funding at this point, nor to stir up controversy in the midst of an election year; there are, however, certain persons who could be pressured to see our point of view, and this initial success would be a useful tool in convincing them. I must ask you to use your influence and your not insignificant persuasive powers in this endeavor; we are at a crucial stage in this project, and more funding is needed. _

_As we move forward to the next step in our plans, I would like you to extend a personal invitation to our old friend the colonel to take part. I believe you know where he may be found. He is to be told nothing, I repeat, nothing of this project until he commits fully to our cause. There is, I believe, what the novelists term 'history' between him and Tiger, and his talents could be of use to us. I must, however, warn you not to underestimate him. He is a man of considerable talent and, at one time, extraordinary influence on certain European powers. Do your best to recruit him, my dear Baron, and you will have helped our cause greatly._

_I remain, very sincerely, yours, etc. etc. _

The resuscitated mummy typed the last few words, his sharp little fingers pecking and poking the keys like so many kitchen knives. The chief smiled again, satisfaction spreading slowly across his face. All the planning, scheming, and fundraising was finally beginning to pay off, and he was never one to waste his time on fruitless projects.

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**A/N: While this story will not deviate from the original in terms of plot, my intention is that it will portray some of the unseen events that underlie the action of **_**Destination Moon **_**and possibly **_**Explorers on the Moon**_**. If you should happen to find inconsistencies or plotholes, please do point them out to me. As of yet, this story is very much a work in progress, and even I don't fully know what direction it may take.**


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